The Strange Magic of Highschool: Chapter 1
by pencils-up-write
Summary: Marianne is facing off her entire school for breaking up with Roland, every girl's dream high school sweetheart. At the same time, Fairlight High, home of the Fairies, is tangled up in a mess with Darkwood High, home of the Goblins. Will the head of their football team, Bog King, manage to break the girl's new cold exterior? And will he let her do the same to him?
1. Chapter 1

**THIS FANDOM NEEDS MORE LOVE!**

 **So, pencils-up-write is riding in from their shamefully long absence to rescue it! Admittedly, the movie had some mistakes, but I am willing to overlook those for the wonderful message about LOFE. (If** **you've watched the movie, you'll get it. If you haven't... what are you doing here?! Go watch it!) Everyone deserves to be loved, and I would like to tell everyone reading this story that I LOFE YOU. I would like to broadcast that to the whole world, but unfortunately, most of the world (unlike me) has a life, and they have no time for me. :(-** **sad face. BUT- I will remain positive and happy and joyful and adorable while still hating people (D. Ily! Kisses! Hugs! Enjoy!**

Marianne was not happy. No, that was an understatement. She was angry. Enraged. Furious. She sat in the principal's office with crossed arms, her eyes narrowed as she watched her father pace in front of her, his agitated words merely white noise in her ears. She already knew why she was here. She was here because she had punched Roland, Roland the star quarterback. Roland the hottest guy in school. Roland the charming student. Roland her ex-boyfriend. _Roland the cheat, the bastard, the no good, lying, pig-headed, son of a bitch. Asshat!_ She cursed in her mind, wild with leftover fury from her encounter with him. She had caught him last week. Seen him kissing that stupid cheerleader. It wasn't even like she was very different from Marianne! She had short brown hair and a small frame, just like the girlfriend he _already had._ But maybe it wasn't that he wanted something different. Maybe he just wanted something… more.

"Marianne! Are you listening to a word I'm saying?!" her father- ahem- principal exclaimed angrily.

"Yes, I'm sorry Dad." she said sullenly, her eyes sad and tired as she looked up at him.

His expression softened, and the chubby man bent to hold his daughter's hand. "Look, sweetheart… I know that the situation didn't look great to you, but you haven't even gotten his side of the story yet. Maybe it was… an accident." he said hopefully, clearly searching for an excuse. She knew why he wanted her with Roland. He knew about Roland's near-perfect game record, about the many scholarship offers he had gotten from prestigious colleges that appreciated his sporting skills. He didn't want Marianne to lose a boy with such potential. He was one of the many who thought they would be the couple that went from freshman year of highschool to senior year of college, then got married and earned a fortune with their combined skills. Sure, he wasn't doing too well in the smarts department, but they had all thought it would be a great way to balance out- his brawn and her brains. She scowled, knowing all this and more was going through his mind. "Honey, he still loves you, he told me so himself! Just... come to the school dance on Friday. _Talk_ to him. Communication is key, you know, in a relatio-"

" _No_ , dad! We're not _in_ a relationship! I don't need to communicate with him anymore! What do you think the word _break-up_ means?" she hissed through her teeth, frustration and hurt showing in her eyes. "I've already got the whole school throwing shade at me for ' _breaking the poor boy's heart'_ " she said in a bitter, mocking voice. "I really don't need my own dad against me too."

He sighed, shaking his head, but it was clear he would give it a rest… for now. "Alright, my stubborn girl." he said with a tired smile. "But at least come to watch that… _social_ sister of yours." he said, wincing at the words. Dawn was surely a lot more than _social_ , but he refused to recognize anymore than that. As her father, it was apparently his duty to stay out of anything boy-related. For some reason, Marianne had received opposite rules.

Her face twisted up as she realized she was going to have to go, for one reason or a other. "Fine." she sighed, but gave him a warning look. "But don't expect me to hang around if Roland shows up."

Her father smiled and enveloped her in a grateful hug. "I would never." he promised, fingers crossed behind her back.

 **:Notes:**

 **Okay, so clearly I'm taking a new approach with much shorter chapters. If you were following me previously, you may have noticed that I have been absent for quite some time. This is due to some major changes in my life that I will not bore you with xD. My thinking is that with shorter chapters, I will be able to post more frequently, and I won't be absent for weeks (or shamefully, months) at a time. Thank you for checking out this story! I will be sure to introduce Bog in the next chapter, although the viewpoint will stay mainly from Marianne's POV.**


	2. Chapter 2

"Marianne, what is _that_?!"

The petite brunette gave a good-natured sigh at the shrill exclamation and turned to see her little sister standing in the doorway in an over-sized, pink, fluffy robe. "Dawn, we've talked about knocking… since you were like, seven." she said with bemusement.

The pretty blonde merely rolled her eyes and hurriedly rushed over, her blonde curls glowing in the light of the sunset being cast through her room. Dawn had insisted on having her room on the east side of the house, so the dawn light was what woke her up every morning. Or at least, that was the _original_ idea. Seeing as her sister had the tendency to sleep until noon whenever she could, the likelihood of the peppy blonde waking at the crack of dawn were slim, to say the least. "Nevermind about that! What in _god's name_ are you _wearing_?" she asked, her expression entirely appalled.

Marianne sighed and shook her head. Coming from anyone else, that remark would surely receive a solid punch in the jaw. Or at least an imaginary one. She had been banned from violence outside of her fencing, karate, and boxing lessons. Her father figured that all of these, added to her track and singing, would provide enough outlets for her to let out any anger. It wasn't like she had anger problems- she was as reasonable as the next person. She just had a way of expressing them that often ended up in her fighting. She almost never started the physical fights, but her sharp tongue and quick wit often angered her opponent enough to throw a punch. After the Roland incident six months ago, she had realized what an idiot she had been. She had let everyone walk all over her, let Roland… _ugh!_ She thought shivering at the memory. She could only thank the heavens that she didn't go all the way with him. She didn't even want to go part of the way, but he had convinced her. She was jerked back to the present with Dawn's wide blue eyes suddenly in front of her own amber ones.

"Marianne! You listen now and you listen quick!" she snapped… or tried to. She really wasn't very scary. It was kind of adorable. "I am _not_ letting you go to the dance wearing _jeans_!" she exclaimed in disgust.

The older sister sat down with a long groan of frustration. "Why?" she asked with a sigh. "I'm not dressing up for anyone special." she said, fighting the tinge of bitter pain that accompanied the words.

Her sister, oblivious yet clever as always, grinned widely. "Exactly, now you're dressing special for everyone!" she said with glee, clearly entertained by her little fantasy world in which her incredible fashion skills had the boys trailing after her sister.

Marianne rolled her eyes, something that was very common in Dawn's presence, but conceeded with a sigh. "Fine." she muttered quietly.

Dawn perked up even more, if possible, and ran into the closet adjoining Marianne's room. Well, it was kind of a room adjoining Marianne's room, dedicated entirely to clothes. Her mother had been quite a fantastic doctor while she was alive, and her money was put to use with their massive house. Always the smart one, her mother had saved up millions before she died and left them in the hands of her daughters. Marianne had always loved that about her mom, how she trusted them with things… although Dawn seemed more interested on spending it on clothes than a car or house. Then again, it was likely that Dad would just buy her everything she needed. Marianne shook such thoughts from her head, feeling guilty about thinking of her sister as untrustworthy or too dependent. Dawn was too sheltered to realize that Dad won't always be there, and admittedly, Marianne had played a large part in that sheltering too. Her guilt disappeared though, when her sister reappeared with a dress that Marianne didn't even know she had. Well, technically she wouldn't know she owned any dressed if she didn't go into her closet, as she had bought none of them. Once she accidentally let her size slip to Dawn, the influx of dresses was uncontrollable, though she must admit a few of them had grown on her. This one must've been new or well-hidden, as she would never let this stay for long. Her mouth gaped open at the tight purple dress, too short to reach her knees, with a sheer neckline and crystal-like fake stones on the sides and lining the edge of the sheer. "No." she said plainly, shaking her head violently. _If she thinks she's getting me in that dress, she's got another thing coming!_

"You. Look. _BEAUTIFUL!_ " Dawn squealed.

Marianne scowled and clamped her hands over her ears, glaring at the blonde intensely. The dress hugged her body tightly, but she had a very slender form, so there were no awkward bumps of skin anywhere. Her breasts were small, but that was nothing new, and her legs were long in comparison to her body. Still, she did not look beautiful. She looked like a regular highschool slut. It wasn't that she had a problem with short, tight dresses… actually, that was her style. She just didn't like being _seen_ in them. She loved them until she went in public. Then she could feel eyes trailing her exposed legs, as if people could see right though the fabric. It made her feel vulnerable. She _hated_ feeling vulnerable. Weak. Helpless… "I'm not wearing it."

Dawn tittered lightly, grinning like an evil genius from a cartoon show. "Too bad! It's already 7:25! We can't take all that time to take it off and put those silly jeans back on!" she said brightly, grabbing her hand and racing out of the room.

Marianne's eyes widened in shock. "Wha- how is it 7:25?!" she asked in astonishment.

Dawn grinned. "Oh, I kept you in there a while. Why do you think I kept bringing new necklaces for you to try on? I already knew you would choose the silver one."

Marianne narrowed her gaze. She _had_ been surprised when Dawn kept handing her bulky golden necklaces that she would never wear. She lit up though, when she realized what Dawn was wearing. "We can't go yet, you still need to change." she said smugly, smirking at her sister. He had her now- Dawn would never leave the house without being dressed appropriately.

Dawn though, was unperturbed. She simply grinned as if remembering something, and nodded to her sister happily. "Oh, I just forgot to take it off, sorry!" she chirped, untying the belt and sliding the robe off.

Marianne was about to cover her eyes, when she realized her sister was wearing a very fancy, one-shoulder dress under the robe, one that only came just past her thigh and had a skirt of roses. She was suddenly very thankful Dawn had chosen a mid-thigh length dress for her, because if she was wearing anything shorter, she would have probably refused to exit the bathroom. "I hate you." she mumbled, her arms crossed as she put on her black coat, threw open the door, and marched through to her car, a sleek M4 BMW.

Dawn grinned and donned her fluffy white coat before heading towards her pink Beetle Convertible. "See you there Mar-bear!"

"Don't call me that!"

Marianne grinned despite herself at their usual banter, pulling out of the drive and waiting for Dawn before driving. "Eyes on the road!" she would call out the window every once in a while. Honestly, it was like driving two cars, except one of them had a mind of its own. And that mind was _wandering._ The brunette sighed and continued at a pace slow enough for Dawn to pay attention and keep up. She really, _really_ wanted to floor the thing, but refrained from doing so, knowing that the sudden need to actually pay attention to driving would probably shock Dawn off the road. After a drive that seemed a thousand hours long, the teens pulled into parking lot of their school, and stepped out of the car. As they walked up, Marianne felt the constant need to pull down the hem of her dress, and she shivered as the autumn breeze swept against her bare legs. She sighed in relief as they made it to the warm school, and smiled as her father greeted them at the door, smiling jovially. Dawn was free then, to go where she pleased, but Marianne stayed with her father. He was trying to get her on good terms with the rest of the school, but she knew that a few smiles and questions about the weather wouldn't be enough to erase the loyalty they felt to that asshole. She just wanted to take her fist and pound it into that stupid, accented mouth of his with his stupid nicknames like Sugar-pie and Baby-girl and-

"Buttercup!"

 _No. Nope. Not happening._ She thought, moving to walk away. To her shock though, her father turned her around to face the cursed voice. "Roland!" she practically growled, about to leap at him. She was restrained once again though, and turned to her father in frustration. "Dad!"

Her father looked at her apologetically but firmly. "Hear him out Marianne."

Roland nodded his head eagerly in agreement. "Yeah! C'mon, listen to your dad baby girl." he said with a smooth grin, twirling that little piece of hair in his forehead. It used to be endearing, lovable even. Now it was the most irritating thing that had ever cursed her eyes in her entire life. "Suck a dick."

"Marianne!" Oops, not a good thing to say in front of her father.

"C'mon Marriane." Roland said with a confident smirk. It must've been a cue, because suddenly music was playing in the background.

 _Oh no._

 **Notes:**

 **Thank you so much WritingWolf14 and Cold words (your words were pretty warm :D) for the wonderfully enthusiastic reviews!**

 **Guest: I plan to follow the movie, although I will cut out some parts- they'll probably meet in chapter four or five**


	3. Chapter 3

"Whoa-ho-ho here I am on my knees again

I'll do anything just to make it right." Roland sang, his voice sickeningly sweet with its southern drawl.

"Say you'll understand, oh I know you can, c'mon Marianne." he slid down to his knees in front of her, looking up with big, pleading green eyes, brimming with desperation.

Marianne narrowed her eyes, fighting the tiny part of her that wanted to say yes to him, to have that warm feeling back that came whenever he touched her, to feel… needed again. She froze as he stood, stretching out a hand to brush her cheekbone. She felt fire. Fire that burned away any hope she had been nurturing that she would be able to forgive him and he would change. She had felt the edges of this fire before, but now it was all across her body. She lifted a hand, amber eyes burning with hatred, and slapped his hand from her face, recoiling from his touch.

He stumbled away in shock, and anger flared in his eyes for a brief moment before it was replaced- no, covered- by sweet-tongued charm. The music picked up the beat and he spun away, doing some disgustingly annoying river-dance type move.

"No matter what people say, it didn't happen that way

She was a passing fling and not a permanent thing."

His words earned an angered shout from the crowd, and through the mass of people, Marianne glimpsed the mousey brown hair of the girl who had captured Roland's attentions. Her eyes were more of a hazel than amber, and she was taller than Marianne remembered. "You said-" her words were cut off as one of the football players leapt in front of the gap where she could be spotted. Nevertheless, her anger at seeing the girl had flared up further, and she couldn't take her mind off of what she had managed to call out. _What could he have told her?_ She raged internally. _What could he have possibly said to her that caused that?!_ She thought, remembering her cry of outrage. She was jerked from her thoughts at his continued singing.

"Say you'll understand, oh I know you can

C'mon Marianne, c'mon Marianne

C'mon Marianne, say you can understand

My Marianne, Marianne, Marianne, Marianne."

He danced forward, a charming smile on his face. She let out a growl and yanked him forward by his collar, lowering her voice to a pitch only he could here. "You cheated on me, remember?" she muttered.

He smirked as she brought his face to hers, but the smug expression fell at her words. "You left me without a homecoming date, remember?" he answered, before tugging away from her grip and leaping up onto the stage, catching a microphone that one of his teammates threw to him.

"Well now your big brown eyes are all full of tears

From the bitterness of my cheatin' years," He sang sadly, making wide eyes at her and blinking innocently.

"So you admit it!" she roared, triumph blazing in her eyes.

For a moment, the band slowed, their expressions confused. Roland had convinced them all that she ditched him at the homecoming dance, thinking that was a way to break up with him. The lyrics of the song argued otherwise…

"Well, anything to make you happy." he answered smoothly, a winning smile on his face.

She was fuming now. Translation: _I'll humor you to get you back._ Now not only had he dispelled the truth once again, but he also made _her_ look like a naive, imaginative idiot in front of _everyone!_ Even her father was looking at her with a bemused expression, as if thinking of the silly things that must be running through her head. The band started up again with even more enthusiasm than before, and Roland resumed his infuriating song.

"So I hang my head, wish that I was dead,"

Her eyes blazed at that line, and she broke from her father's grip, to stand at the base of the stage, gripping the edge with white knuckles. "I can help with that." she growled.

Roland simply gave her a brief look of exaggerated sadness before spinning around in a full circle and putting on a wide grin. "C'mon Marianne, c'mon Marianne

C'mon Marianne, say you can understand

My Marianne!" He finished with a run-and-slide, skidding on his knees to the front of the stage to kneel above her, a lazy smile sprawled across his face. She glared up at him, nose-to-nose, hatred burning in her gaze. He smirked, taking triumph in the closeness of them, and reached out to take her chin.

 _Slap._ Suddenly he was on his side on the stage, his cheek red with a handprint. The brunette moved to stand in front of his face, now twisted out of it's usual perfection with one side smushed to the floor, and glared into his eyes, their heights now even. "Don't touch me." she spat, before turning on her heel and striding out of the room, head held high.

Sunny sighed as he closed the door to the cafeteria, the blaring music growing muffled as the barrier was set in place. He couldn't help peeking through the window though, gazing longingly as a certain pretty blonde danced through the crowd of highschool guys, shaking her hips and waving her hands in the air. He smiled sadly at the thought. "'Cause she just doesn't care." he sighed. He knew it was a lie as soon as the words left his tongue- it's not that she doesn't care, she just doesn't know. But he planned to keep it that way. The short young man turned around at a small shuffle behind him and nearly screamed as he saw Roland against the wall. "R-Roland!" he exclaimed, eyes growing wide. He hung out with a lot of sprinters, and like him, they were all small in form. Roland had a tendency to not be so kind to them, though he had never done anything to Sunny. However, the black eye Pare had been sporting a few weeks ago was enough to convince him that Roland, at best, could not be trusted. "Marianne got you pretty good." he commented with an innocent smile, though his eyes were narrowed spitefully. _Ha!_

Roland's eyes flashed with anger, but almost immediately widened to explode in watery tears. "I know she did!" he exclaimed, his handsome face tensed in pain, as if trying to fight the tears on his face… or maybe force them out. "I just don't understand- I try so hard! I can't think of any way to make her love me…" he said, sending a look towards the sophmore.

Sunny twisted his hands uncomfortably, feeling empathy rise in his chest. _No, you can't trust this guy!_ He told himself sternly, but couldn't help feeling for him. "I know that feeling." he mumbled, walking forward and sitting next to him, leaning back against the wall. He ran his tanned, calloused fingers through his messy black hair, sighing.

Roland nodded, not looking up from his hands, which hung inbetween his legs, elbows resting on his knees. "Dawn?" he guessed.

Sunny's eyes widened. "That obvious?" he asked with a slight wince that he was so easy to read.

Roland chuckled. "Only to me bud, don't stress." he said with a smile.

Sunny tossed him a grateful smile, suddenly warming up to the jock. "Thanks man, I guess you would be able to tell." his eyes widened as the words slipped out. "No offense! Just… similar situations."

Roland, whom's anger had returned at his words, forced himself to calm down. "Yes… but… maybe we'll have a similar solution… maybe a drink…"

Sunny laughed at the thought. "Ha, get'em drunk." he chuckled, beginning to shake his head. He was startled out of the movement though, when Roland leapt up.

"That's brilliant! Then they'll hear us through!" He boomed the praise.

Sunny, recovering from his shock, gave a wide, fake smile. "Yeah, brilliant!" he said with over-exaggerated happiness. "Except we're _underAGE!_ " he burst out, standing with his arms crossed.

Roland chuckled, rolling his eyes. "Oh, c'mon, you're not actually worried about that, are you?" he laughed, although there was a predatory look in his eyes, as if he was on the verge of laughing _at_ him if he _was_ worried.

Sunny hesitated, then looked down. "Nah, man." he lied with a forced smile. "I was jus' kiddin'." he added a punch to his shoulder for extra emphasis.

Roland beamed. "Great! Now all you gotta do is sneak into 69er's, snatch some Vodka, and bring it to my party!" he said with a wide smile.

Sunny's eyes bulged at the thought. "Uh, 69er's?! The club?" he yelped, his voice rising in pitch.

Roland grinned and gave a sharp nod. "That'd be the one." he drawled, sitting down and leaning back.

Sunny stared at him, gaping at his nonchalance given the current matter. "You might as well ask me to kill myself now!" he squeaked. "That club is run by _Bog King._ " he whispered the name as if it carried a curse. Everyone knew the story- Bog had once gone to this school, his father and Mr. Wing- Marianne's father, the current principal- ran it together. Bog _was_ a king at this school, he was head of the fencing team, the most important team at this school. That was until Bog was a sophmore, his father was killed in an accident involving drunk drivers at this school. The boy was never the same. He grew cold and withdrawn, and the very next year moved to Darkwood High, bringing over half of that class with him. That was four years ago, and now as a senior, he was captain of the football team… and the fencing team. Math doesn't add up? Well, he was held back… twice. Which was surprising, considering the grade-A student he had been previously. He was 21 now, and yes, he ran a club while attending high school. His mother was the principal, so it was "allowed". Now Sunny, the "dwarf", as the football players would say, was expected to go undercover and steal some hard liquor. "I can't _do_ that!" he exclaimed, his voice cracking with his tense energy. "It's a suicide mission! It'll never work!"

Roland raised an eyebrow in question. "I thought you weren't worried." he said, gallantly standing and twirling his cowlick. "That hasn't changed… has it?" he asked, an edge of threat in his voice.

Sunny's eyes widened and his flaring excitement immediately dimmed to a dull glow. "No, Roland. Of course not." he murmured, his eyes searching the ground. He reminded himself why he was doing this in the first place- Dawn. She needed to see him, to understand his feelings. It would be better for the both of them- she would stop wasting her times with the dicks who just wanted a hook-up, and he wouldn't have to feel that ache in his chest every time she came crying- or swooning- over some boy she picked up at a party. "I'll do it for Dawn." he murmured determinedly, standing and giving Roland a stout nod before turning and heading back to the party with determination in his steps. His strength of heart may have faltered though, if he saw the satisfied sneer spread on the handsome blonde's face as they turned from each other.

"And for me." he added smugly under his breath. This would work, he was sure of it. He would finally win Marianne's heart. And her money. And her father. Hey, he was just making sure he got where he was aiming to go- the top. If he needed to force her to be his step ladder, then so be it.

 **Notes:**

 **Thanks so much for the awesome review, Loyalty-Kask!**

 **So, I was thinking about my plan to make it like the movie, and realized that trying to align the magic world with the real world was very near impossible. Therefore, while I will be sticking to the basic plot of the movie, I will be putting my own, realistic spin to it. That being said, let me know in the reviews if you guys want Bog and Marianne to meet in the next chapter! I have two possible plots for it, one of which has no encounter and the other which does. Also, would you guys like to see some Bog POV, or do you like Marianne's side better? I value your opinions as much as my own, so I can't wait to hear them! Love ya!**


	4. Chapter 4

Marianne may have marched out of that gym with her chin up, but as soon as she broke through the doors to the parking lot, she let out her anger with a massive, ear-shattering scream of anger. It wasn't shrill or screeching either, it was more of… a warcry. She balled her hands into fists and turned to the brick wall of her school, giving it a solid punch. It wasn't very satisfying. Moments later, she was holding the now-bleeding hand to her stomach, a steady stream of profanities falling from her lips in mutters. Tears of anger and both physical and emotional pain welled in her eyes, and she narrowed them, unwilling to let them fall. "I HATE you!" she bellowed at the school, not only directing it at Roland but everyone else as well. Dawn for bringing her here… her father for condoning that disrespectful behavior…! "Ugh!" The pixie-like brunette groaned before spinning around and heading for her car. I am so, so done. She thought angrily, yanking the door open and leaping into her car. She was personally happy no one had followed her to try to get her inside, but she remembered to file the information away if she ever needed to guilt-trip Dawn or her dad into doing something. With that slightly satisfying thought, she floored it out of that school, speeding out onto the road. She didn't often do this- speed around like a maniac. She did love to go fast, but she also wanted to make sure everyone around her was safe, so she was a surprisingly excellent driver. Right now though, it was 11:00pm in the quiet, private town and the streets were empty. She sped down the paved path, purposely roaring the engine, enjoying the thrum of power sent through her. She loved her car. It was one of the few things her father had forced her to have that she actually learned to enjoy. It was "frozen black" which, translated, was matte black. She called it "Chaser". Chaser could hit 190 mph when she wanted him to, and she had experienced that speed out on the track. She eventually slowed down though, with her tears blurring her vision, pulling into a random parking lot at still frightfully high speeds, and skidding into a parking space, panting angrily. She gripped the steering role with two hands and heaved herself back and forth, frustrated at the little movement it invoked from the vehicle. More proof of her smallness. She then slammed her head down in the center of the wheel, slightly more satisfied with the wailing honk. She kept that going for about 10 seconds before she heard an angry voice yelling at her. She let out an internal sigh and then smirked. Already in enough trouble today, might as well have dad pick me up from the police station for "disturbing the peace". With that thought in mind, she pressed her head even more into the wheel, imagining her scalp was nailed to the horn. The angry voice, which was most certainly masculine, was closer now, and had a scottish accent. She gave a little snort of laughter when the voice paused at her window, and she could imagine the surprise in this man's head at this stranger in front of his store with her head pressed to a car horn. Then the silence was broken with an angry rapping on her window. She tilted her head, the horn unceasing, to peer up at him with one side of her face up, watching him tauntingly through her dark bangs. She was rather taken aback with his appearance for a moment, rough, grey-brown hair and paler skin contrasting with striking blue eyes, but smirked at the scowl she spotted a moment later. Hello. She mouthed to him with narrowed eyes, displeased with how far she had to turn her head in order to actually see his face. Goodness, this bastard is tall.

* * *

Bog was not thrilled. In fact, he was downright pissed. He had endured another day of school, with everyone obeying his every whim because he was old enough to be a teacher and strong enough to twist their heads off. Then he had gone home, to find his mother setting up a page on a dating site. No, he did not live with his mother. His mother lived with him. After the death of his father, he had moved out of the house and into his own the first chance he got, using a small amount of the generous fortune he had received from his father's will. Soon after, his mother joined him, leaving for the same reason he did. Too many memories. After shutting the site down and installing a new, 18-letter password to his laptop, he had given her another thorough lecture about his averseness towards dating, and she had given him another thorough lecture about grandchildren. Then he had come to work at the bar, and sat in his office, watching through the tinted black window as the incredibly slow day dragged on. A slow day was nearly as bad as a busy day. A busy day, while loud, annoying, and full of drunken idiots, at least earned you some cash. A slow day just had a few drunken idiots trying to sing or dance or some other artistic form that resulted in glasses broken and people kicked out. Then he had found out that the band he had set to perform that night had cancelled 5 minutes before the bar opened, and left him with no time whatsoever to schedule a replacement. AND THEN. And then, some infernal, egotistical, arrogant, ostentatious bastard decided to honk their horn for 7 hours straight out in his parking lot. Now, if this had been an average day, and he had been in an average mood, he would have simply sent Stuff out to shut the offender up and then grumbled about it in his chair for a good ten minutes. Today, however, was not a normal day. It was a rather abnormal day and he was even more irritable than usual. Therefore, when this pretentious idiot began their wailing outside, and several heads slowly rose from their drinks and began looking around with annoyed questioning gazes, Bog stomped down the stairs himself and marched outside, proceeding to have a battle with the car horn as to who was louder as he shouted his way to the vehicle in question. Then of course, the "ostentatious bastard" revealed itself to be a girl, and a rather small one at that, who was currently peering up at him with the most challenging gaze he had ever seen, a smug smirk spread across her dark purple lips, with makeup smeared across her delicate features, and her head STILL PRESSED ONTO THE DAMNED HORN. He narrowed his eyes straight back at her, peering into her golden amber depths dangerously. "AY! SHUT OFF THAT HORN OR SO HELP ME I WILL TEAR THE DOOR OFF YE' STINKING CAR, YA WEE LASS!" He bellowed.

The woman in question did not shrink back as he was expecting, nor cry out, flinch, tense, or otherwise startle in any way as he was prepared for. Instead, she slowly, and very deliberately, raised a finger to her chin, her eyes wandering upwards, as if considering her options.

Bog was grinding his teeth now, his fury building by the second. The fact that she didn't seem the least bit frightened by him was certainly pissing him off, not to mention the constant wailing of the horn in the background. Finally, finally, the woman removed her head from the horn, raising it and turning to face him in her full, teary-eyed glory. He was not in the mood to play soft though, and he crossed his arms. This war was far from over. Perhaps if she had stopped immediately, he would let her off with a glare. But the nerve she had just displayed deserved something else. He rapped her window thrice more, before returning his arm to caging his broad chest.

She gave him a lazy smile that clearly said go to hell as she lowered the window. He opened his mouth in preparation to yell at her before suddenly, her hand was on his mouth, and she was smirking up at him. "If you intend to yell at me then I highly suggest you do it where I can't punch you." she said, before removing her hand and watching him expectantly.

Meanwhile, he was standing there with his jaw hanging, dumbfounded. He was no longer sure whether he was irritated by or admiring her obvious sass. He cleared his throat with a visible effort to pull himself together, and narrowed his eyes. "I will stand where I want to stand, young lass." he growled, glaring daggers at her. "You, on the other hand, will be forced to park elsewhere, unless ye prefer to be sent to the police for-"

"-for disturbing the peace? Actually yes, I do prefer that very much." she interrupted with a snarky smile. "In fact, that was the goal in the first place!"

Bog paused, watching her with narrowed eyes, though he couldn't help a small smirk on his own face as he met her mockingly perky, defiant gaze. "I call bull."

Her own smirk spread wider. "You think I'm bluffing? Well, I can give you my motives, if you'll care to hear them." she offered. "If not then proceed with your lecture."

Bog fought a smile. "I don't care to, but I will hear them, as I need tha' proper background information to lecture ye thoroughly."

The brunette stifled a chuckle. "Very well. I want to upset my father. I want to upset my ex. I want to make my father drive down to the police station. I want the entire town to know that Mr. Blue-blood has a daughter who was taken downtown." she snapped them out fast enough that he knew it wasn't a lie.

He chuckled. "Well aren't you the little rebel?"

In a flash, there was a stinging pain on one cheek, and he was turned away from her. It took him a few moments to register that she had slapped him. No one slaps him! No one!

"Don't call me little." she snarled.

He would've laughed if his pride were not so wounded. "That was entirely uncalled for, you wee little ant!" he snapped angrily, turning to her.

"I'm a fire ant, you pine-headed paddy wack!" she hissed.

He had to laugh at that. "Did you just say paddy wack?"

She gave him a wide false smile. "Did you just ask for a punch to the jaw?" she questioned, fisting her hand as if to prove she wasn't joking.

He would've snarked back, but she had proven now that she was not one to bluff, and his cheek still throbbed. "Listen, I'll let you stay if ye quit yer honking." His mouth twisted back into a smirk at the double meaning.

She merely rolled her eyes, but nodded. "Yeah, I think I got that out of my system." she said with a small chuckle, before holding out her hand. "Name's Marianne." she added, watching him with wary expectancy. "Marianne Lightfield."

He gave a small smile and shook her hand. "King. Bog King." he introduced himself, giving her a little test.

"Oh god no, don't play that one!" she groaned. "I swear, I'm putting my head back on the horn if you like those movies."

He chuckled. "Nah, just testing to see if you were worth talking to."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? The mighty Bog King has deemed me worthy of his presence?" she guessed, a knowing light in her eyes.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Oh great, you know me already." he said, only half-joking.

She shrugged. "Hard not to. You kinda made history in high school. Not many can run a bar and be a student at the same time." she said, before opening her car door, smirking as it hit him and he stumbled back.

"What're ye doing?"

She shrugged, swinging her legs out of the car. "I got nowhere else to be. Might as well be here." she said, before standing and swinging her bag over her shoulder.

The first thing he was struck by was her attire. Good god. He thought, his eyes running over her form without his conscious awareness. The next thing struck only seconds later, after reviewing her body in shorter time than he had expected. "Yer a wee pixie!" he exclaimed with a laugh.

She narrowed her eyes and pushed him back with enough force that he fell against her car. "You're a freakin' tree, so shut the hell up. And stop looking at my legs." she said, a smirk creeping onto her face. "You didn't strike me as the pervy type."

His cheeks flushed bright red as he groped for an answer, sputtering. "I wasn't- I mean- I didn't-"

"Oh shut up, I didn't mean it. I don't even like this dress that much. A little too much bling. My sister chose it for me." she said, taking his forearm and yanking him forwards. "I don't like it when trees fall on my Chase." she teased.

He raised an eyebrow. "Chase?" he questioned, beginning to regain his thoughts from a haze of embarrassment. He really wasn't trying to be weird, she was just very… eye catching.

"Yes. Chase. Make fun of my baby and you die." she snapped before he could crack a joke.

He smiled. A real smile. "I wasn't going to. Mine is named Winter Wipeout." he chuckled.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "You playing me?" she asked, leaning forward as if to suck the truth from his eyes.

He chuckled again and shook his head, side-stepping away. "Nope. A porsche boxster. She goes by a lot of names actually. Winter Wipeout, Smooth Silver, Frost Flash."

Marianne narrowed her eyes and smirked. "So basically any form of alliteration relating to speed and the color grey."

Bog held up a finger in protest. "Silver!"

Marianne cocked an eyebrow, starting towards the club. "Whatever Treetop."

He let out an annoyed grumble but looked at her in amusement as she headed towards the front door. "Where do ye think you're going?" he asked, crossing his arms and widening his stance by her car, raising an eyebrow.

She looked back with an expectant expression. "Inside… duh."

He smirked and looked her up and down. "You mean to tell me you're 21?"

She smiled widely, seeming all-too-pleased with the question as she retrieved her wallet from the pocket of her leather jacket, which she had slipped on before exiting the car. She finally re-emerged with a thin card between two fingers. "That's what my card says." she said, holding out the fake ID.

He lifted an eyebrow at her doubtfully, but shrugged and nodded. "Ay, well, I can't be blamed for ye lyin'." he said with a shrug.

Marianne snorted. "I'm not lying!" she retorted.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Alright, pixie, whatever you say."

She narrowed her eyes. "I'm sensing some height prejudice."

He rolled his eyes. "And I'm sensing some anger issues." he murmured under his breath, rewarded with a thorough punch to his shoulder.

"All artists are angry. And angsty. How do you think songs are written?"

Bog chuckled and nodded at that. "Aye, ye have a point there." he mumbled, running a hand through his spiked hair, before his blue eyes lit up in inspiration, and he turned to her, grabbing her shoulders and spinning her to face him. "Wait, do you sing?"

 **Notes:**

 **Thank you to Loyalty-Kask for the wonderful review! You brightened my day! We can slap him together :P**

 **Guest: to answer both of your questions, just now! :D I have next to no update schedule so it's really just whenever I have time and inspiration to write a chapter.**


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